A PLAIN TALK WITH BILL KLEMM
“There, what do you think of it, Frank?”
Ralph sat back in a chair in his friend’s den, and waited to hear the
decision of the one in whose opinion he had such faith.
“It seems as clear as print to me, and I’m tickled nearly to death at
the way things are turning out It was mighty nice in you coming here
to-night on the way home, and relieving my anxiety,” said the other,
vigorously wringing the hand of his visitor.
“But I had a double motive. I hoped to see your Uncle Jim, and now you
tell me he’s away for the night--gone with your father to see a sick
friend over the mountain, and won’t be back until morning. But what do
you make of all this strange story?”
“That pretended Mr. Andrew Jackson is, of course, Arnold Musgrove. And
you are the baby he turned over to Sam Smalling years ago. This picture
is what will clinch matters, if he puts up any denial. As to just who
you are, I have strong suspicions, I must say,” returned Frank.
Then he wrote something on paper and thrust it before Ralph.
“How would you like to start out fresh under that name, eh?”
“Jack Langworthy!” read Ralph, and then threw himself suddenly forward
so that his arms clasped Frank around the neck.
Nature had given way. So long had he been fighting to hold in his
emotions that he could control himself no longer.
“I know I’m a fool and a baby to do this, but it just seemed as though
something broke loose and swamped me,” he said, finally, as he wiped
the moisture from his eyes, and tried to smile in Frank’s face.
“I don’t blame you a bit. In fact, I think you’ve done bully to hold
in so long. And then the strain of that game to-day was enough alone
to knock the props out from under any fellow. But cheer up, Ralph!
It’s going to be all right now, for the sky has brightened, and I bet
a cookey you find a loving mother inside another month. Just think of
it, will you? Hurrah! But I say, it’ll take an everlasting long time to
learn to say Langworthy instead of West; for it’s a big mouthful.”
Ralph felt better after that.
“I’ll be around to-morrow without fail to talk it all over with your
uncle. Please don’t let him know anything about it until I come. I’d
like to be the one to tell him the story, Frank.”
“I’m mum on that score. But I wonder if those sophs succeeded in
stealing the spread of the freshmen, or were they kept out of the barn
by main force? You’ve got some husky chaps in your class this year, and
they could give a good account of themselves in a scrap. But Helen will
tell me later,” laughed Frank, as his comrade started for the door.
Ralph was really quite exhausted, and knew that he must get home and to
bed. The tremendous strain of that strenuous day was indeed telling on
him.
It was well on to midnight before voices outside announced that the
freshmen had returned from the country. Helen came in, her face aglow
with excitement, to tell what a tremendous scuffle had followed the
attempt of the sophomores to break in and spoil the spread.
“But our boys put them out all right, Frank! Oh, it was a tremendous
time. Perhaps some of us girls were in the scrimmage, too, for I know
I found this cap in my hand when it was all over,” and she laughingly
held up a boy’s headgear, decorated with the ribbon of the second
class, as well as the purple and gold of Columbia.
And that was all Frank could coax her to tell. He could look back to
several similar experiences in his own school life, and appreciate what
it meant to these freshmen, for Frank was a junior now.
In the morning Frank sauntered around to a certain modest house in
town, where he greeted a young fellow by the name of Gabe Brown. Gabe
was in the store which Frank’s father ran, known as the department
store of Columbia. Moreover, he had charge of a certain counter in
which Frank was somewhat interested just then.
“Hello, Gabe!” he said, as the other looked surprised at seeing the son
of his employer look up on Sunday morning, “just wanted to get a little
information from you. Here’s a new bandana handkerchief I picked up
yesterday. Some fellow dropped it out at the baseball grounds, and I’d
like to find out who he is. Can you help me?”
Gabe took the article, and examined it.
“Came from our place, didn’t it?” continued Frank, seeing his smile.
“It sure did, and I think I know whose it is, Frank,” replied the
salesman.
“How could you be sure? Lots of these are sold every season.”
“Well, you notice that it’s just about new, and never been washed, for
the stiffening is in it still. That shows it was bought recently, don’t
it?” asked Gabe.
“Sounds reasonable,” admitted Frank, for this was just what he himself
had in mind all along.
“Well, we ran out of these a week back, and ordered more. They got in
Friday evening, and I sold just one yesterday. They’re different in
design from our old ones, too. See the point?” said Gabe, triumphantly.
“Sure. Who bought that one, now?”
“Mr. William Klemm, Jr.,” came the expected response.
“Thanks; I thought so,” and Frank turned away, leaving Gabe looking
after him and muttering:
“I reckon something’s going to happen close to Billy Klemm just about
now.”
Frank saw the object of his solicitude on the street in front of a
vacant lot. Bill had slipped out to meet one of his cronies on the sly,
and perhaps puff a cigarette in the cool of that Sunday morning.
“Morning, Bill. Lost something yesterday, didn’t you?” and Frank held
up the red bandana.
Bill started to put out his hand, and then drew it cautiously back, as
though he might have scented a trap.
“Naw, ain’t got any bandany rag. Belongs to some other fellow. What
made you reckon I owned it?” he said, suspiciously.
“Because Gabe Brown says he sold you this particular one from a new lot
that just came in, and different from the old ones. You were in a hurry
to jump yesterday, Bill, when that bull started for the hole in the
fence!”
Bill shut his teeth hard and looked as if about to hotly deny that he
knew anything about that matter.
“Better go slow, Bill, or I might be tempted to step around and tell
your dad a few things. Keep going with Lef Seller, and you’ll bring up
in the lockup sooner or later. And, Bill, it’s a lucky thing for you
that no one was seriously hurt yesterday when you let that savage beast
in on the crowd. If there had been, I’d see to it that you were made to
pay the piper.”
The awkward fellow looked frightened, and let his head drop on his
chest.
“’Twas only a joke,” he mumbled, “but some fellers they never see
anything funny.”
“Not when the joke endangers human life, and there were lots of kids
around in the ball-grounds. Here, take the bandana, and stop pulling
chestnuts out of the fire for Lef Seller, just like the cat did for the
monkey.”
Bill finally accepted the handkerchief, and tried to put a bold face on
the matter, saying:
“Guess if anything, the old bull he’s got a right to kick, ’cause he
near had the life pounded out of him with them bats. It’s white of you
not to peep, Frank. I reckon I’ll take your advice, and cut Lef out.”
But Frank was not deceived. He knew the kind of fellow Bill was, and
that there would be a very small chance of reforming his ways.
“Yes,” Frank was musing to himself as he walked away, “they say there
was a certain old gentleman with horns and cloven hoofs who, when he
was sick, sighed to be a saint; but when he got well was he? Not any!
And Bill Klemm only feels sorry when he thinks he’s in for a licking at
home, or in school.”
When Mr. Allen and Uncle Jim returned, Ralph was on hand. He and the
lawyer went “into executive session,” as the latter laughingly said,
and remained in the library for a full hour.
“He’s going to fix it for me,” declared Ralph, later on, as he and
Frank walked down the road together.
“Then he thought it a clear case, did he?” asked his chum, eagerly.
“So much so that he says he will start across to Italy in a week, after
his big case is over with, and see the lady himself,” replied Ralph,
promptly.
“Bully for Uncle Jim! Didn’t I tell you he was game. But what does he
do that for, when he could cable?”
“He’s a lawyer, and cautious. Besides, he says, and it looks good to
me, that a man who could steal a baby away from his sister for the
sake of gain, wouldn’t be above opening her mail, or even reading a
cablegram. It might put him on his guard, and spoil things. And so he’s
going himself. Oh, Frank, that will be a long month to me!”
“But with such happiness coming you can stand it. Think of the past,
and how different things look now. Ralph, old chap, I’m sure glad it’s
happening this way. Besides, it’ll give a fellow a chance to repeat
that name Langworthy a few times to myself, so as to kind of get used
to it.”
“Don’t be too dead sure,” remarked Ralph. “You know the old saying,
there’s many a slip between the cup and the lip. But I’m glad you
say your arm is getting on nicely, for you’ve just got to pitch next
Saturday, and pull old Columbia through to glory.”